IPS 1161 

PI 
1903 

'Copy 1 



IE LITTLE PEOPLE OF 
THE SNOW 



BY 



WILLIAM CULLEN HRYANT 



I 




NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

MCMIII 



'-•7!!^^: 




^^ Around that little grave, in the long night, 
Frost-wreaths were laid and tufts of silvery rime 
In shape like blades and blossoms of the field.'''' 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF 
THE SNOW 



BY 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 




• _ • 



NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

MCMIII 



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COPTRIGHT, 1872, 1883, 1903 
By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



riiblished, November, 1903 



• • • • • 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE 
OF THE SNOW 

Alice. — One of your old-world stories, Uncle 
John, 
Such as you tell us by the winter fire, 
Till we all wonder it is grown so late. 

Uncle John. — The story of the witch that ground 
to death 
Two children in her mill, or will you have 
The tale of Goody Cutpursel 

Alice. — Nay now, nay; 

Those stories are too childish, Uncle John, 
Too childish even for little Willy here, 
And I am older, two good years, than he; 
No, let us have a tale of elves that ride, 

3 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

By night, with jingling reins, or gnomes of the 

mine, 
Or water-fairies, such as you know how 
To spin, till Willy's eyes forget to wink, 
And good Aunt Mary, busy as she is, 
Lays down her knitting. 

Uncle John. — Listen to me, then. 

'Twas in the olden time, long, long ago, 
And long before the great oak at our door 
Was yet an acorn, on a mountain's side 
Lived, with his wife, a cottager. They dwelt 
Beside a glen and near a dashing brook, 
A pleasant spot in spring, where first the wren 
Was heard to chatter, and, among the grass. 
Flowers opened earliest; but when winter came. 
That little brook was fringed with other flowers, — 
White flowers, with crystal leaf and stem, that 

grew 
In clear November nights. And, later still, 

4 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

That mountain-glen was filled with drifted snows 
From side to side, that one might walk across; 
While, many a fathom deep, below, the brook 
Sang to itself, and leaped and trotted on 
Unfrozen, o^er its pebbles, toward the vale. 

Alice. — A mountain-side, you said; the Alps, 
perhaps. 
Or our own Alleghanies. 

Uncle John. — Not so fast. 

My young geographer, for then the Alps, 
With their broad pastures, haply were untrod 
Of herdsman's foot, and never human voice 
Had sounded in the woods that overhang 
Our Alleghany's streams. I think it was 
Upon the slopes of the great Caucasus, 
Or where the rivulets of Ararat 
Seek the Armenian vales. That mountain rose 
So high, that, on its top, the winter-snow 
Was never melted, and the cottagers 

5 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

Among the summer-blossoms, far below, 
Saw its wMte peaks in August from their door. 

One little maiden, in that cottage-home. 
Dwelt with her parents, light of heart and limb. 
Bright, restless, thoughtless, flitting here and 

there. 
Like sunshine on the uneasy ocean-waves, 
And sometimes she forgot what she was bid, 
As Alice does. 

Alice- Or Willy, quite as oft. 

Uncle John. — But you are older, Alice, two 
good years. 
And should be wiser. Eva was the name 
Of this young maiden, now twelve summers old. 

Now you must know that, in those early times. 
When autumn days grew pale, there came a troop 
Of childlike forms from that cold mountain-top; 
With trailing garments through the air they 
came, 

6 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

Or walked the ground with girded loins, and 

threw 
Spangles of silvery frost upon the grass, 
And edged the brooks with glistening parapets. 
And built it crystal bridges, touched the pool. 
And turned its face to glass, or, rising thence. 
They shook from their full laps the soft, light 

snow. 
And buried the great earth, as autumn winds 
Bury the forest-floor in heaps of leaves. 

A beautiful race were they, with baby brows. 
And fair, bright locks, and voices like the sound 
Of steps on the crisp snow, in which they talked 
With man, as friend with friend. A merry sight 
It was, when, crowding round the traveller, 
They smote him with their heaviest snow-flakes, 

flung 
Needles of frost in handfuls at his cheeks. 
And, of the light wreaths of his smoking breath, 

7 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

Wove a white fringe for his brown beard, and 

laughed 
Their slender laugh to see him wink and grin 
And make grim faces as he floundered on. 

But, when the spring came on, what terror 
reigned 
Among these Little People of the Snow! 
To them the sun's warm beams were shafts of fire, 
And the soft south-wind was the wind of death. 
Away they flew, all with a pretty scowl 
Upon their childish faces, to the north, 
Or scampered upward to the mountain's top, 
And there defied their enemy, the Spring; 
Skipping and dancing on the frozen peaks, 
And moulding little snow-balls in their palms, 
And rolling them, to crush her flowers below, 
Down the steep snow-fields. 

Alice. — That, too, must have been 

A merry sight to look at. 

8 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

Uncle John. — You are right, 

But I must speak of graver matters now. 

Midwinter was the time, and Eva stood. 
Within the cottage, all prepared to dare 
The outer cold, with ample furry robe 
Close-belted round her waist, and boots of fur. 
And a broad kerchief, which her mother's hand 
Had closely drawn about her ruddy cheek. 
" Now, stay not long abroad," said the good dame, 
" For sharp is the outer air, and, mark me well. 
Go not upon the snow beyond the spot 
Where the great linden bounds the neighboring 
field." 

The little maiden promised, and went forth. 
And climbed the rounded snow-swells firm with 

frost 
Beneath her feet, and slid, with balancing arms, 
Into the hollows. Once, as up a drift 
She slowly rose, before her, in the way, 
2 9 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNO^ 

She saw a little creature, lily-cheeked, 
With flowing flaxen locks, and faint blue eyes, 
That gleamed like ice, and robe that only seemed 
Of a more shadowy whiteness than her cheek. 
On a smooth bank she sat. 

Alice, — She must have been 

One of your Little People of the Snow. 

Uncle John, — She was so, and, as Eva now 
drew near, 
The tiny creature bounded from her seat; 
" And come," she said, " my pretty friend ; to-day 
We will be playmates. I have watched thee long. 
And seen how well thou lov'st to walk these drifts. 
And scoop their fair sides into little cells, 
And carve them with quaint figures, huge-limbed 

men. 
Lions, and griffins. We will have, to-day, 
A merry ramble over these bright fields, 
And thou shalt see what thou hast never seen." 

10 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

On went the pair, until they reached the bound 
Where the great linden stood, set deep in snow, 
Up to the lower branches. " Here we stop," 
Said Eva, " for my mother has my word 
That I will go no farther than this tree." 
Then the snow-maiden laughed: "And what is 

this? 
This fear of the pure snow, the innocent snow. 
That never harmed aught living? Thou mayst 

roam 
For leagues beyond this garden, and return 
In safety; here the grim wolf never prowls, 
And here the eagle of our mountain-crags 
Preys not in winter. I will show the way, 
And bring thee safely home. Thy mother, sure, 
Counselled thee thus because thou hadst no 

guide." 
By such smooth words was Eva won to break 
Her promise, and went on with her new friend, 

11 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

Over the glistening snow and down a bank 
Where a white shelf, wrought by the eddying 

wind, 
Like to a billow's crest in the great sea, 
Curtained an opening. " Look, we enter here." 
And straight, beneath the fair o'erhanging fold. 
Entered the little pair that hill of snow. 
Walking along a passage with white walls, 
And a white vault above where snow-stars shed 
A wintiy twilight. Eva moved in awe. 
And held her peace, but the snow-maiden smiled. 
And talked and tripped along, as down the way. 
Deeper they went into that mountainous drift. 

And now the white walls widened, and the vault 
Swelled upward, like some vast cathedral-dome, 
Such as the Florentine, who bore the name 
Of heaven's most potent angel, reared, long since. 
Or the unknown builder of that wondrous fane, 
The glory of Burgos. Here a garden lay, 

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THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

In which the Little People of the Snow 
Were wont to take their pastime when their tasks 
Upon the mountain's side and in the clouds 
Were ended. Here they taught the silent frost 
To mock, in stem and spray, and leaf and flower, 
The growths of summer. Here the palm up- 
reared 
Its white columnar trunk and spotless sheaf 
Of plume-like leaves; here cedars, huge as those 
Of Lebanon, stretched far their level boughs, 
Yet pale and shadowless ; the sturdy oak 
Stood, with its huge gnarled roots of seeming 

strength, 
Fast anchored in the glistening bank ; light sprays 
Of myrtle, roses in their bud and bloom, 
Drooped by the winding walks; yet all seemed 

wrought 
Of stainless alabaster; up the trees 
Ran the lithe jessamine, with stalk and leaf 

13 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

Colorless as her flowers. " Go softly on," 
Said the snow-maiden ; " touch not, with thy hand, 
The frail creation round thee, 'and beware 
To sweep it with thy skirts. Now look above. 
How sumptuously these bowers are lighted up 
With shifting gleams that softly come and go! 
These are the northern lights, such as thou seest 
In the midwinter nights, cold, wandering flames. 
That float with our processions, through the air; 
And here, within our winter palaces, 
Mimic the glorious daybreak." Then she told 
How, when the wind, in the long winter nights, 
Swept the light snows into the hollow dell. 
She and her comrades guided to its place 
Each wandering flake, and piled them quaintly up, 
In shapely colonnade and glistening arch, 
With shadowy aisles between, or bade them grow, 
Beneath their little hands, to bowery walks 
In gardens such as these, and, o^er them all, 

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THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

Built the broad roof. '' But thou hast yet to see 
A fairer sight," she said, and led the way 
To where a window of pellucid ice 
Stood in the wall of snow, beside their path. 
'' Look, but thou mayst not enter." Eva looked, 
And lo ! a glorious hall, from whose high vault 
Stripes of soft light, ruddy and delicate green, 
And tender blue, flowed downward to the floor 
And far around, as if the aerial hosts, 
That march on high by night, with beamy spears, 
And streaming banners, to that place had brought 
Their radiant flags to grace a festival. 
And in that hall a joyous multitude 
Of these by whom its glistening walls were reared, 
Whirled in a merry dance to silvery sounds, 
That rang from cymbals of transparent ice, 
And ice-cups, quivering to the skilful touch 
Of little fingers. Round and round they flew. 
As when, in spring, about a chimney-top, 

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THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

A cloud of twittering swallows, just returned, 
Wheel round and round, and turn and wheel 

again. 
Unwinding their swift track. So rapidly- 
Flowed the meandering stream of that fair dance. 
Beneath that dome of light. Bright eyes that 

looked 
From under lily-brows, and gauzy scarfs 
Sparkling like snow-wreaths in the early sun, 
Shot by the window in their mazy whirl. 
And there stood Eva, wondering at the sight 
Of those bright revellers and that graceful sweep 
Of motion as they passed her; — long she gazed. 
And listened long to the sweet sounds that thrilled 
The frosty air, till now the encroaching cold 
Recalled her to herself. " Too long, too long 
I linger here," she said, and then she sprang 
Into the path, and with a hurried step 
Followed it upward. Ever by her side 

16 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OP THE SNOW 

Her little guide kept pace. As on they went, 
Eva bemoaned her fault: "What must they 

think — 
The dear ones in the cottage, while so long. 
Hour after hour, I stay without? I know 
That they will seek me far and near, and weep 
To find me not. How could I, wickedly. 
Neglect the charge they gave me 1 " As she spoke, 
The hot tears started to her eyes ; she knelt 
In the mid-path. " Father ! forgive this sin ; 
Forgive myself I cannot " — thus she prayed. 
And rose and hastened onward. When, at last. 
They reached the outer air, the clear north 

breathed 
A bitter cold, from which she shrank with dread, 
But the snow-maiden bounded as she felt 
The cutting blast, and uttered shouts of joy, 
And skipped, with boundless glee, from drift to 

drift, 

17 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

And danced round Eva, as she labored up 

The mounds of snow. " Ah me ! I feel my eyes 

Grow heavy," Eva said ; " they swim with sleep ; 

I cannot walk for utter weariness, 

And I must rest a moment on this bank, 

But let it not be long." As thus she spoke, 

In half formed words, she sank on the smooth 

snow, 
With closing lids. Her guide composed the robe 
About her limbs, and said : " A pleasant spot 
Is this to slumber in; on such a couch 
Oft have I slept away the winter night, 
And had the sweetest dreams." So Eva slept, 
But slept in death ; for when the power of frost 
Locks up the motions of the living frame, 
The victim passes to the realm of Death 
Through the dim porch of Sleep. The little 

guide. 
Watching beside her, saw the hues of life 

18 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

Fade from the fair smooth brow and rounded 

cheek, 
As fades the crimson from a morning cloud, 
Till they were white as marble, and the breath 
Had ceased to come and go, yet knew she not 
At first that this was death. But when she 

marked 
How deep the paleness was, how motionless 
That once lithe form, a fear came over her. 
She strove to wake the sleeper, plucked her robe, 
And shouted in her ear, but all in vain; 
The life had passed away from those young' 

limbs. 
Then the snow-maiden raised a wailing cry, 
Such as the dweller in some lonely wild, 
Sleepless through all the long December night, 
Hears when the mournful East begins to blow. 

But suddenly was heard the sound of steps. 
Grating on the crisp snow; the cottagers 

19 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

Were seeking Eva ; from afar they saw 

The twain, and hurried toward them. As they 

came 
With gentle chidings ready on their lips, 
And marked that deathlike sleep, and heard the 

tale 
Of the snow-maiden, mortal anguish fell 
Upon their hearts, and bitter words of grief 
And blame were uttered : " Cruel, cruel one, 
To tempt our daughter thus, and cruel we. 
Who suffered her to wander forth alone 
In this fierce cold ! " They lifted the dear child. 
And bore her home and chafed her tender limbs, 
And strove, by all the simple arts they knew. 
To make the chilled blood move, and win the 

breath 
Back to her bosom ; fruitlessly they strove ; 
The little maid was dead. In blank despair 
They stood, and gazed at her who never more 

20 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

Should look on them. " Why die we not with 

her?" 
They said ; " without her, life is bitterness." 

Now came the funeral-day; the simple folk 
Of all that pastoral region gathered round 
To share the sorrow of the cottagers. 
They carved a way into the mound of snow 
To the glen's side, and dug a little grave 
In the smooth slope, and, following the bier, 
In long procession from the silent door, 
Chanted a sad and solemn melody: 

" Lay her away to rest within the ground. 
Yea, lay her down whose pure and innocent 

life 
Was spotless as these snows ; for she was reared 
In love, and passed in love life's pleasant spring, 
And all that now our tenderest love can do 
Is to give burial to her lifeless limbs." 

They paused. A thousand slender voices round, 

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THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

Like echoes softly flung from rock and hill, 
Took up the strain, and all the hollow air 
Seemed mourning for the dead; for, on that 

day, 
The Little People of the Snow had come, 
From mountain-peak, and cloud, and icy hall, 
To Eva's burial. As the murmur died. 
The funeral-train renewed the solemn chant: 

" Thou, Lord, hast taken her to be with Eve, 
Whose gentle name was given her. Even so, 
For so Thy wisdom saw that it was best 
For her and us. We bring our bleeding hearts. 
And ask the touch of healing from Thy hand, 
As, with submissive tears, we render back 
The lovely and beloved to Him who gave." 

They ceased. Again the plaintive murmur rose. 
From shadowy skirts of low-hung cloud it came. 
And wide white fields, and fir-trees capped with 
snow, 

22 



THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 

Shivering to the sad sounds. They sank away 
To silence in the dim-seen distant woods. 

The little grave was closed; the funeral-train 
Departed; winter wore away; the Spring 
Steeped, with her quickening rains, the violet- 
tufts. 
By fond hands planted where the maiden slept. 
But, after Eva's burial, never more 
The Little People of the Snow were seen 
By human eye, nor ever human ear 
Heard from their lips articulate speech again; 
For a decree went forth to cut them off. 
Forever, from communion with mankind. 
The winter-clouds, along the mountain-side, 
Kolled downward toward the vale, but no fair 

form 
Leaned from their folds, and, in the icy glens, 
And aged woods, under snow-loaded pines, 
Where once they made their haunt, was emptiness. 

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9! 7 lOO'^x !:^^R«RY OF CONGRESS 

THE LITTLE PEOPLE 

13 + 1, 4.1. • + ^ ® ®^5 971 208 4 

But ever, when the wintry aays arew u«ar, 

Around that little grave, in the long night. 
Frost-wreaths were laid and tufts of silvery rime 
In shape like blades and blossoms of the field, 
As one would scatter flowers upon a bier. 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

015 971 208 4 




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